


kiss me on the mouth and set me free (but please don't bite)

by kuresoto



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Deepthroating, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Kinktober 2019, Porn, Sexual Slavery, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-11-22 13:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuresoto/pseuds/kuresoto
Summary: Persimonne's harcore kinktober 2019 fills! ♥





	1. 1. voyeurism/exhibitionism

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'm late. I know this and it's been eating me up inside D; Also??? Who tf writes this much for ONE prompt for kinktober??? IT WAS A MISTAKE BUT HERE WE ARE.
> 
> **This collection is gonna be all over the place. Some will continue from others, some with be standalone**, most will hopefully be much shorter than the first chapter aeghsgs If it's a continuation of something, I'll provide the appropriate links at the beginning/end of the chapters! I'm going to *try* to do the whole thing and since pepsi has said she'll keep the collection open through November, I won't feel so bad when I post things *really fucking late*.
> 
> I have...3? fics I'm gonna try to finish for Halloween, which have specific kink days that can be applied, so those days won't be filled for a while lmfao rip.
> 
> The way I approach some topics might be out of the ordinary. There are far too many feelings for this PWP month :/
> 
> Thank you so much to persimonne for organising this and making a banger (heh) kinktober! ([twitter](https://twitter.com/persimonne666/status/1172537332647505922)) ([tumblr](https://persimonne.tumblr.com/post/187688725232/pepsi-and-pals-hardcore-kinktober-challenge)) 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Voyeurism/Exhibitionism  
AU: Modern  
Summary: Ben, shitty that he has to come in on a Sunday to do overtime, gets an eyeful of a woman sunbathing on the building nearby.

Ben _hates_ working overtime. It’s bad enough that he sometimes stays back on weekdays, but to come in on a Sunday to fix a mess that interns had caused and his subordinates were too incompetent to fix? Well, that’s the real cherry on top. 

At least he was able to fire those interns, which sounds cruel but having those morons working for his company is the last thing Ben wants.

He knows what his staff call him behind his back, as if they’re in any way subtle about it. 

_Asshole. Prick. Cockhead. The devil. A fucking killjoy. _

Some even think he _enjoys_ making interns cry. 

Ben snorts, sifting through the paperwork trying to find the salvageable ones. He doesn’t. He just wants them to do their fucking jobs. Was that so much to ask? And he doesn’t actually do anything. He literally just stands there and stares at them without saying a single word. It’s not his fault they’re a nervous wreck to the point where he can see their sweat patches through their oversized blazers. 

Okay, so _maybe_ he gets some satisfaction knowing that his presence alone fucks them up. 

But who’s having the last laugh now? Certainly not him, Ben Solo, who’s wasting his perfectly good weekend at work -- not that he had anything on, but that’s besides the point.

It’s past noon when he finally cracks and faces the fact it’s going to take more than a single day to get through it all. He stretches his arms high above his head, his neck and shoulders cracking as he does so, before slumping in his chair and looking out of his floor to ceiling windows. It’s a shame too, it’s so nice outside.

With his reusable coffee cup in hand, Ben gets up and moves to the window to bask in the sun. He closes his eyes momentarily, taking in as much vitamin D as he can as he sips at his coffee. It’s long since grown cold and honestly, he’s just drinking the coffee for the sake of it now. The sun warms him where the coffee cannot. 

He works on the forty-third floor, where the only scenery his office gets is whatever high rise buildings are around him. He changes offices every few months, what with rapidly rising through the ranks of First Order Industries. Today is the first time he’s _actually_ looked out of _this_ office window, noticing that his office is just above the hotel roof that sits a few streets away. 

And the other thing he notices is how the roof is very much occupied by a single lady.

Who is topless. 

Who is now rubbing some sort of lotion over her breasts, making them jiggle and glisten in the sun.

She’s on a sunlounger with a pair of sunglasses on her face. She has brown hair up in a high bun, only whisps of hair tickling her neck. Her bikini bottoms look extremely small as well, hugging her figure that even Ben can see how her flesh dips under the straps. She’s tanned, her skin is sun-kissed, and her nipples are the most gorgeous he’s ever seen--brown, perfectly shaped and sized that Ben takes a moment to image what they would feel against his tongue.

He snaps out of his reverie the moment he conjures the image and grips his coffee cup. If it was the standard disposable paper cup, he would have crushed it long ago. He rests his forehead on the window and forces himself to look away. No, he can’t do this. Not here, and not like _this_. 

His erection presses up against the window but he firmly ignores it. 

Work is no place for this. 

Maybe he’ll savor the image and resume when he gets home, but he knows that won’t happen either. He just doesn’t have the drive so this happening _right now_, here of all places is a surprise. 

But again, he can’t do this at work. 

He cracks an eye open and turns his head to the right--not a lot, just enough to see the camera in the corner of the room. There are cameras in all the offices. There always has been and while he’s never paid any attention to them in the past, it’s all he can think about now.

He needs to finish up for the day anyways. The sooner he’s done, the quicker he can get the fuck out of here and not think of the repercussions on if he got caught. The directors and CEO of First Order Industries keep a tight hold over their employees. Maybe that’s why Ben is where is he now, his presence itself is enough to keep staff in check. 

Just as he’s about to head back to his desk, the woman starts to touch herself. She palms her breasts, squeezing and massaging them before a hand snakes down to her crotch. She doesn’t dip under her bikini bottoms. Her fingers remain visible to him as she languidly rubs herself. It’s not like she’s trying to get off, not really. It looks like she’s just doing it for fun. To relax? He can’t relate.

She arches off the sunlounge and tents one of her knees, hiding her fingers from Ben’s view so all he can see is the lazy motion of her arm. If anything, it makes him even harder as he starts to rub against the window. Not obviously, no. He turns his back to the camera, which makes his trapped cock slide along the glass. He lets out a shudder and pushes into the window. 

To the camera, it looks like he’s resting his head against the window and enjoying the sun, but Ben is enjoying something much more than that. He doesn’t touch himself. He keeps his hand around his cup, making it obvious to the camera that he is. The camera cannot see what Ben can. 

But he can’t come from this, and he doesn’t know if he wants to. It would stain his pants and people would see. He would have to wash himself and then the cameras would _definitely_ see the giant wet patch. 

The woman grows tired of her ministrations and turns over instead, showing off the round globes of her ass that are unhindered by her bikini. Her back glistens too, but his fingers ache to rub a fresh coating of lotion over her. She probably needs it. She’s probably missed a spot. 

The hold on his cup tightens and he sighs.

Why is she doing this? How is she so confident that no one will walk in on her? Ben squints at the hotel and realises which one it is. It’s a five-star hotel and the pool she’s lounging around is large, but not large enough to be open to all hotel guests. So, a private pool--the penthouse. 

The First Order Industries building has mirror windows, so she probably doesn’t realise that anyone inside could see her. Or maybe she does and that’s why she’s doing this. Ben doesn’t blame her. Her body is really something and if she’s able to stay at the penthouse, which guarantees privacy, then why should she hide her body? 

He shouldn’t have watched her for this long. It’s an invasion to her privacy, even if she’s doing this out in the open. Ben growls and grinds his head into the window. He can’t do this.

He forces himself back to his desk and keeps his head buried in his work. He doesn’t keep track of her throughout the day, wondering if she should be out in the sun for so long, or how she stretches like a cat when she finally gets up and goes back inside. Nope, he definitely doesn’t notice all these things. He’s a good worker, fixing problems so his company will run smoother. He’s definitely not being distracted like some prepubescent boy. He’s Ben Solo. He’s doesn’t ‘have fun’ or do these sort of things.

And he definitely doesn’t try to finish off when he gets home, only to lose all motivation the moment he steps across the threshold of his sparsely furnished apartment. And he doesn’t smash a few plates because of his pent up frustration.

Nope. Definitely not. 

-

She’s there again, only this time it’s far worse. 

Before when she was sunbathing on the roof, he could only see her from the corner of his eye when at his desk. 

A few days have passed since then. It’s currently nighttime and Ben only has his desk lamp as a source of light. He had come back from dinner not long ago and skipped turning on his office lights entirely, so when something lit up outside, his eyes were naturally drawn to it.

The entire penthouse apartment is illuminated and Ben can see, clear as day as the woman from before enters her home. She’s wearing a dark pantsuit, which makes Ben briefly wonder what she does for a living. 

Any coherent thoughts are chased away as she proceeds to get undressed while facing the window. She’s _very _visible but she doesn’t make a show out of it so that confirms Ben’s initial suspicion that she’s unaware of her audience. 

Ben hopes he’s the only one who sees her and the more he thinks about it, the more confident that he is. Managers and executives are the only ones with the privilege of having offices, much less ones with a view of some sort. 

And, as far as he’s aware, he’s the only schmuck who actually clocks in overtime.

He used to be pissed about that, but now he considers himself fortunate. 

The woman disappears for a moment, going further inside the apartment, only to reappear moments later in a large oversized shirt that hangs to her knees. Ben’s breath catches in his throat; she looks adorable as she sits herself in a large, plush armchair that faces the window. She places a small bag and a cup of water on the small side table next to her. 

By all appearances, she looks like she’s enjoying the nighttime view, which is probably black mirrored walls of First Order Industries, but then she throws a leg over an armrest and things escalate.

He can’t see _it_ clearly, but his heart races as she reaches into the bag. She even takes a long drink, being _very_ nonchalant about the flesh coloured dildo she holds in her hands. She doesn’t inspect it--why would she?--but proceeds to lower it between her legs.

She doesn’t shimmy out of any underwear.

And she doesn’t apply any lubricant that Ben has seen.

Which means she’s very ready and very willing.

Ben swallows the thick lump that forms in his throat and desperately craves for the glass of water she places back on the side table. 

But then again, there are other things he would much rather quench his thirst with. 

He still feels shame for thinking such thoughts but he’s not as mortified as he was before. It could be because it’s nighttime and that in his dark office with minimal lighting, the camera won’t be able to pick up his distraction. It’ll just look like he’s deep in thought and staring out of the window. It won’t see how his cock strains in his paints, almost bumping against the underside of his desk, or how he works his jaw in his attempt to calm himself.

His jaw is going to ache from how tight he clenches, but he can’t help it.

The woman, this _girl_ who had no right to barge into his life unannounced and have such an effect on him, is lazily masturbating with her legs spread wide for anyone to see, but at the same time, is shadowed by her oversized shirt. 

Her eyes are shut as she works herself at an achingly slow pace. She’s enjoying herself, if the way she leans back in her armchair is anything to go by. She reminds him of a cat, the way she sinks into her seat with that look on her face--that look of ecstasy and relaxation that is foreign to him. 

But how long does she plan on doing this? 

Ben needs to do his work and his willpower is far too shit to just go back to it on his own. 

She’s teasing him, tempting him with that position, tenting her legs and casting a shadow over her groin, just enough that Ben pushes himself against his desk, the wooden panel digging into his stomach as he tries to get a better look. Something. _Anything_. 

Thankfully, she starts to pick up her pace and her rhythm becomes haphazard. 

Good, the sooner she finishes, the sooner he’s put out of his misery. 

He knows he’s not normal, whatever normal is. Most men or women would scramble for such a show at work, but this is getting bothersome. It’s inconvenient and a waste of time and energy, especially for him who can never get himself off properly. Hell, it’s a miracle she stirs anything within him but these small shows are no way satisfying for him.

Even though his thoughts border on being annoyed at the woman, his body continues to say otherwise. _God_, it’s almost painful how tight his pants are.

Maybe...maybe he can give himself this. 

Just this once.

He tilts his hips and presses the tip of his cock into the underside of his desk. The zipper of his trousers align with his slit and the layers of fabric gives Ben just the right amount of pressure to get something from this. He doesn’t move much, only small thrusts against his desk. 

He props his elbow on his desk and massages his forehead, making it look like he’s thinking hard about something work related, but from behind his fingers, his eyes never leave the woman. 

He lets out a small gasp when the woman pulls her shirt up to her waist, obviously frustrated at her restricted position. She could move to her bed, which is out of view, but she stays in the armchair, legs spread and cunt finally on display for Ben to see. He lets out a strangled noise at how she pistons the dildo into her. 

Her free hand goes to her clit and rubs circles. Her hips cant upwards and she changes the angle in which she’s fucking herself. 

Ben’s heart is going to give out, he just knows it. He’s going to have a heart attack and not even come. 

His free hand presses against his cock, his trousers limiting his ability to wrap his fingers around himself. All he can do is use his fingertips to rub up and down his length, nowhere near the stimulation needed to come.

He wants to flip his desk.

Or more like he wants to push her against it and sink inside of her. 

Dear fucking god, that thought pulls a choked sob from him. He’s sweating now and he doesn’t give a shit how he looks.

The new angle gives him a clear view of how wet the dildo is and how her cunt is shimmers with her juices. His cock would serve her well. It’s far superior than the silicone junk she’s settling for. He could fill her up so, _so_ good--thicker and fuller than any toy ever could. 

She comes with a silent cry and becomes slack in the armchair, loose-limbed with her head at an awkward angle and a smile on her face. She looks so blissfully unaware of the torture Ben is going through.

In one last ditch, he finally unzips himself and wraps his fingers around his thick girth. He’s got a big cock. He’s not being up himself about it, he knows this as a fact when the head of his penis bends downwards painfully because there isn’t enough space under his table for his massive dick. 

There should be desks made specifically for men like him, on the off chance they need to whip out their junk and jerk one out under the desk. The audacity, he thinks with a humorous huff.

His eyes accidentally catch the bright red dot in the corner of his room as he comes, which results in a smear under his desk. It’s not a proper load. No, far from it. Hell, he wouldn’t even call this a proper orgasm, much to his unending frustration. 

His shoulders collapse under the tension and a vein throbs on his forehead. 

It seems like there won’t be much of a clean up needed, but he’s so high strung he doesn’t care—he just wants to come.

He’ll try again when he gets home, holding onto the image of the spread woman and if his imagination is up for it, he can pretend she’s doing this _for him_. 

He’s barely made it out of the building when his mind already decides against it, leaving him weary and exhausted. He all but passes out when he gets home, still in his suit where the only evidence of his nighttime endeavor is the barely visible white mark on the inside of his trousers. 

-

“You knew about this, didn’t you, _Solo_,” Hux spat as he fills his cup with whatever sludge the company can pass as coffee. 

Ben turns to his colleague who’s looking oddly frazzled. “Keep thinking so, Hux,” he says. He doesn’t know what the man is talking about, but he’ll take every opportunity he can get to fuck with him. 

Hux throws Ben the dirtiest look he’s eve seen from the man before pushing past him. 

Even as Ben makes his way back to his office, Hux glares daggers at him through the open door of his office. Ben stops at his office and stares at Hux. No smile, no grin, no nothing--just his blank look that everyone thinks is intimidating. He holds his gaze for so long that Hux has no choice but to back down and slam his door with a sneer. 

Weird, but whatever crawled up Hux’s ass and died is none of his concern. 

He takes one step into his office and immediately freezes. 

There’s a woman in his office. 

No one goes into his office, much less a _woman_. He naturally repels the oppsite sex; if his demeanor wasn’t enough then his looks most certainly does. In fact, the last time anyone stepped foot in his space was Phasma before she took leave without notice, and even then that was to bitch to him about Hux.

The woman is wearing a black pantsuit and even though she’s shorter than him, a bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck. She’s standing by his window, looking out and waiting--for him.

Ben clears his throat and closes the door. “Do you need something?” he asks. The woman turns and looks at him expectantly. 

Holy fucking _shit_.

Ben’s throat painfully constricts, causing a bubble of dry air to scrape down his windpipe. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. It’s just white noise in his head. 

_It’s her_. The woman from the penthouse is standing in his office with a less than enthusiastic look on her face.

She _must_ know and if that’s the case, how did she get here? Did curiosity get the better of her and decide _yes_,_ best see if that building across from my condo is full of perverts_. 

She starts towards him, bearing down on him like an executioner. There’s a folder in her hand, which is probably a court order of some sort for him. 

Well, it was a good run. Pissed off his parents, pissed off his colleagues and now pissed off the achingly attractive woman who’s blessed him with the sight of her naked body. It could be worse, he decides when she stops in front of him and sizes him up. At least he’s seen how she looked post-orgasm. Her face glowed and the lazy smile on her face tugs something in his chest, even now. He’s envious, maybe even happy, that she can have such small pleasures. 

Ben holds his breathe and braces for the inevitable disgust. 

Instead, she crosses her arms and frowns at him. “Do you make all your auditors wait like this?” 

Ben stares at her dumbly, not fully comprehending her words. “What?”

Her frown deepens. “Do you make all your--”

“I heard you the first time,” he says quickly, cutting her off, which makes her eyes narrow. “I didn’t know there was an audit going on.”

“That’s the point. No point in giving you a heads up to hide all your non-conforming paperwork.”

“O-kay?” So, she’s angry she’s had to wait, but didn’t tell anyone she was coming? Ben is so confused that his previous worries slip his mind.

“You were notified a few months ago that this would happen. That was more than enough notice needed. As far as I’m aware, the whole day has been blocked out for this purpose. Did you not check you calendar and realise?” She thinks he’s an idiot and Ben suddenly realises why Hux was in such a foul mood. He must have gotten audited the day before, also not knowing it was going to happen. 

Ben wants to groan and strangle his director, but this is _so _First Order Industries. Keep your employees on their toes and they will be ready for anything. Being an asshole must be a prerequisite for this company. 

“Sorry. Right. Umm, did you want anything before we get started? Water, perhaps?” He’s stalling for time and she knows it. 

She makes a very obvious show of checking the clock on the wall. “No, we can start now. Show me your files from earlier this year and we can go from there.”

Ben has no choice but to follow her instructions. He wants to ask her name but the aura she emits keeps his mouth firmly shut. 

-

The audit ends up taking two days instead of one, much to both their surprise.

Ben finds out her name is Rey Niima, sent from Republic Finances, to audit everyone because of a discrepancy in the company’s money books. The job takes another day since it’s become apparent that even though he’s just one of many managers in the company, Ben has taken responsibilities far beyond his paygrade. 

He’s sure he’s not the reason for the missing money--he’s _very_ good at what he does and his records are in impeccable order. He knows this from Rey’s approving nod at his filing system. 

Having no one but Rey for company for two days straight has done things to Ben. He’s memorised how she smells--saltwater with a hint of sandalwood--and after the initial awkwardness wore off and Ben switched to work-mode, it was easy to sneak glances at her without her realising. 

He’s never been infatuated with anyone, but he feels like this must be it. He should feel lucky that she doesn’t bring _it_ up but at the same time, he wants to say something. He _needs_ to know if she knows.

The way her brows knit together as she soaks up all the information before her, is cute. (But not as cute as she looked in that oversized shirt). 

He immediately zeroes in on some of her bad habits, like how she chews the top of her pen or dogears her notebook instead of using a bookmark like any sane person. That last one makes his hand twitch while wishing he was the tip of her pen. It’s a push and pull sort of feeling, both wanting to be acknowledged and annoyed at the same time.

Ben cringes internally when she folds a page diagonally in her book, probably to signify something more important than the other dogeared pages. 

“Okay, so one last thing before we’re done. Your timesheets have shown that you have a habit of clocking more overtime than other managers at your level. How often do you come in and when was the last time you stayed back?” She folds her hands over her lap and waits patiently. 

Still fixated on how the page is going to have a giant crease running across her words, Ben answers without much thought. “Last Sunday and then again on Wednesday night, just to finish some stuff that the interns messed up.”

The words leave his mouth before he can take them back.

Humming thoughtfully, Rey runs her hand through her hair and uncrosses her legs, much like how she had done in her penthouse. Ben’s flick down to the apex of her thighs for just a second, but she’s already seen it. She’s had her hair up in three buns for the past two days, so her fingers catch the curl of her bun and pulls it loose. She tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck so nicely for him, especially since her loosened hair frames her face so perfectly. 

This is a trap. This must be some sort of fucked up test. 

Rey gives a low whistle, which sends an electric shock down his belly. “Coming in on a Sunday. I’ve never seen someone so eager to do paperwork. Perhaps you found something more entertaining?”

She gives him an innocent look and knows _exactly_ what she’s doing.

“No, nothing. Just paperwork,” he replies with his best stoic face. He’s proud of how steady his voice is.

“Really?” she says with exaggeration. “Nothing at all? How about Wednesday night?” Rey flicks one of the pages in her notebook. “It says you were here quite late. Well past dinnertime. Did you go out for dinner?”

Ben nods. “I did, but I didn’t take long. Wanted to come back and finish work so I didn’t have to worry about it.”

“And did you? Finish, that is.” 

The innuendo strikes his chest and his heartbeat triples. His cock twitches traitorously, despite the panic racing through his mind.

Rey watches him closely, her eyes piercing his soul, waiting for him to give up the answer she wants. He swears he sees the corner of her mouth curl upwards as she pushes forward in her seat, making her thighs press against her fabric constraints. 

Ben looks away, uncaring how guilty he looks, and catches sight of the blinking camera in the corner. 

Any desire to go along with whatever Rey has cooked up is gone with a snap, along with the possible sexual tension he felt between them. 

“No,” he says with finality in his voice. “I didn’t finish completely, but enough to be left for tomorrow. It’s done now.” With a hardened face, Ben’s eyes slide away from the camera and to Rey. “Do you do this often?” he asks, not indicating what ‘this’ is, but the accusation in his tone is enough to wipe the look off Rey’s face.

Whether or not she considers this flirting, Ben watches as confusion morphs on her face as she turns to where Ben was looking at. She sees the camera immediately and turns back to him. She crosses her legs again and writes something in her notebook.

“It’s a shame about the view,” she says casually. “Other offices I’ve been to have been lucky to have something more than buildings to look at.” With her head still buried in her notes, she flicks her eyes up and looks at him from under her lashes. 

“It’s...adequate.” 

“Adequate? Hmm, interesting.”

Ben drops his voice several decibels and mumbles with his mouth barely moving. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Rey returns in a similar hushed tone.

“This,” Ben says with a stab. “I’m not some pervert who drools over women sunbathing.”

“No, you’re just some guy who’ll get off on some woman touching herself,” Rey rebuts and Ben would throw his head in his hands if not for the camera.

“First of all, you were facing the window. Anyone would stop and watch. Hell, they would be a lot more gross about it them me. They would probably video and share it around.” Ben grimaces in disgust. If that ever happened, he would crush their phone with his bare hands, not because it would breech the company’s code of conduct, but because...well, it’s not something he wants to think about just yet. “Besides, you didn't seem to mind. If anything, doing _that _in a brightly lit apartment, it’s almost like you planned this.” A thought strikes him. “Did Snoke put you up to this? Tempt me to see if I’ll break?” he whispers harshly.

“What? No!” Rey sombres up immediately. “Is that something that executive Snoke would do?”

“I’m—” Ben is at a loss for words. He always knew and accepted how fucked up First Order Industries was. Everyone was on the same boat so no one gave a shit about anyone else, so for Rey, someone completely unaffiliated with the company—essentially a nobody—to show even a smidgen of worry, makes Ben realise that maybe the things happening at his company wasn’t okay. “I think you should leave.”

He wants to add _‘leave now before you get me fired_’, but instead, gets up from his seat, straightens his suit shirt, and gestures Rey to leave.

She takes her time packing up her things, or maybe it’s just the intense paranoia Ben is experiencing. Even when he’s not looking at the camera, he can feel security watching him, and by extension, executive Snoke. 

Snoke always paid close attention to him, from orientation to now. He occasionally commented that Ben’s strength was the lack of distractions in his life, which included partners. As far as Snoke is concerned, Ben has no interest in any casual or serious relationships. 

Until now.

Rey doesn’t look upset at Ben’s sudden dismissal. In fact, she looks amused and he understands why. Who is _he_ to dismiss _her_? He has no power over her. If anything, it’s the other way around. 

And she makes a show of it too, when she stops next to him. His door is still closed and even though his hand is on the handle, she stabs her pointed heel at the base of the door to prevent it from opening.

Rey takes his hand in hers, giving it a firm shake but doesn’t release him. Her thumb rubs circles against his flesh--pulling shivers from him.

“It looks like you still have a lot of work to do, Mr. Solo. You’re a busy man. Might need to clock in more overtime to get it all done. Sunday, perhaps?” She poses it as a question but she lets go of his hand and pulls open the door before Ben can react. 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at the back of her, wondering what the fuck just happened.

-

“What am I doing here?” Ben mutters to himself, tapping his pen against his desk as he gazes out of his window. 

Like some forlorn puppy, Ben came into work on Sunday. He came in later than usual, as if it mattered--he keeps telling himself that by doing so, he wasn’t following Rey’s instructions like some obedient dog. After all, he’s not here for her. No, he’s here to do work.

He ignores the fact that he had finished his work on Friday and that he’s just wasting time at this point. As far as he can tell, Rey’s not home. There no sign of her at the pool and her apartment looks empty. 

Why did he come? What was he hoping to happen? 

Again, he doesn’t have any expectations but…

Ben is so preoccupied with his thoughts as he stares wistfully out of the window that he doesn’t notice Rey, silently stepping inside his office and closing the door. It’s the click of the lock sliding shut that makes Ben breaks his intense staring contest with the empty apartment.

“Rey,” he croaks out, drinking in her appearance.

She’s wearing a black knit that clings to her figure, tucked into an olive green skirt that stops far above her knees and shows off her perfect legs. A simple handbag hangs off her shoulder as she pops her hip and tilts her head to the side. “So, you came.”

“I’m just doing work.”

Rey makes a noise and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.” She crosses the room with confident steps and ends up on his side of the desk, bracing a hand against one of his armrests.

Ben jolts back at her sudden proximity and tries to scoot his seat back but Rey holds him firmly in place. She reaches over and moves the mouse back and forth, waking up his black screen to reveal a locked computer. Ben’s ears become hot, he hadn’t even bothered logging into his desktop when he got in.

“Mmm, yes, so much work to do,” Rey says, unable to fight the grin from her face much longer. She places a knee on his seat, wedging it between his thighs and trapping him like an animal. “Why are you here, Ben?”

There’s only a sliver of space between her knee and his crotch.Ben doesn’t dare move, much less breathe. “I could ask you the same,” he murmurs. 

“I mean, why do you stay here.” A small whine rumbles at the back of his throat when Rey lifts herself up and away from him. “Here, at the First Order Industries. You’re better than that. I’ve seen your work. Anyone would take you if you applied. What does Snoke have over you?”

Mentioning his boss’ name causes Ben to shoot out of his chair and push Rey back into the window with his body alone. He doesn’t lay a finger on her, using his large chest that struggles to keep his shirt buttoned, to crowd her space. 

“He doesn’t have anything on me. I can leave whenever I want,” he snarls. This is what happens, the urge to defend his boss despite knowing how wrong he is. 

“If that’s the case, then that’s even worse. That means you _want_ to be here.”

“Where do you suppose I go, huh? I need a referral from Snoke to get another job. You think he wouldn’t sabotage my career? My life? He’s an executive of one of the most powerful corporations in the country. He’s got the resources to let some rumors about me slip. No one would even consider me if I asked him to be my referee.” The words taste like poison. He would never tell anyone this but Rey makes it so easy.

“There’s another way.” Rey leans close. Even though he’s breathing heavily through his nostrils, Rey remains unfazed. Her lips ghost over his but keeps her distance. “You just need to take it. Just say ‘fuck it’. Trust me. This isn’t the place for you. You don’t belong here,” she says, flicking her eyes to the camera in the corner. 

“Fuck it?” he repeats back at her, also looking at the camera. Being so close to her means her scent invades his mind, making him believe that she doesn’t have some ulterior motive. 

Days later, he’ll realise how oblivious he’s been and that the signs have been in front of him the whole time, but for now, he’s blind. Future Ben will laugh at him for being a gullible fool, for believing that Rey actually cared about him personally. 

“Fuck it,” he says again, firmer this time. 

A smile has barely graced Rey’s face when Ben’s lips crash upon hers, kissing her as if his life depended on it--if not his life, then his freedom. 

Years of pent up frustration and isolation hits him like a steam train and all the imaginary restraints he’s placed upon himself--for no reason other than trying to please Snoke’s unrealistic expectations--crumble with every swipe of Rey’s tongue over his lips. 

A shadow falls over him, followed by the sound of squeaking rubber. Ben cracks open his eyes with a low growl, only to see a window cleaner on the panel next to them. 

Ben lets go of Rey, suddenly remembering where he is, but Rey slides a hand up his chest and fists the front of his shirt. 

“He can’t see us,” she says, claws scraping over is nipples and making them harden.

“But--”

“But what?”

But what? She’s right, the window cleaner will only see his reflection on the mirror windows outside. 

Ben takes in her dishevelled appearance--flushed cheeks with bruised lips from how hard he’s kissed her--before turning to the camera. This will be it, his one and only ‘fuck you’ to First Order Industries. 

Ben steps closer to Rey until he’s pressed against her, his erection digging into her thigh. “Even though he can’t see us, there’s a chance he’ll know if you’re not careful,” he whispers deeply. “Unless that’s what you want.” With an arm against the glass above her head, Ben drags his other hand up her thigh, pulling her skirt up with it until the round globes of her ass are pressed against the window. “Tell me you want this. Please,” he whispers desperately into her ear, breathing her in until her hair tickles his lips.

Rey takes his hand and places it at the apex of her thighs. It’s wet and exposed, his finger practically slipping past her folds. “Why do you think I came? Dressed like this? I didn’t expect anything less,” she says sultrily. 

“And him?” Ben nods at the window cleaner who starts to move towards them.

“A happy coincidence. I don’t mind, if you don’t.” She rolls her hips and and grabs his ass, fingers gripping his muscular backside. She lets out a groan at how firm it is.

Ben huffs out a laugh and proceeds to rub her seam. Wet sounds from playing with her cunt mixes with the squeaks on the window, making Ben sync his movements with the window cleaner’s. The frown on Rey’s face is cute, annoyance on her lips only slows down his ministrations. 

“You were different, you know? I felt it when I saw you. You’re not like the others.” Rey rolls her hips and the tip of Ben’s finger slips inside, pulling a choked gasp.

But he keeps it there, not pulling out but not pushing in either. 

It’s torture to him but seeing Rey like this--control slipping from her--makes it bearable. Just a bit.

She hooks her leg on his waist and with her hands, pushes him closer, but he still doesn’t move. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to feel how insane you drove me--_drive_ me, even now,” he corrects. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do now.”

Rey scoffs and for a moment, forgets her overwhelming desire to be fucked. “Please, have you seen yourself? You’re just lying now.”

“No, I’m really not.” Ben actually pulls away from her and Rey drops her leg. She’s standing before her with here skirt bunched at her waist and pussy glistening for him, but she’s frowning, brows knitted together with something deeper in her eyes. “I don’t do this, Rey. I’ve never--I’m not like you.”

The words aren’t meant to insult but they do. 

“You shouldn’t assume things about people you just met.” Rey starts to shimmy her skirt back over her legs, smoothing out the fabric and dusting off imaginary lint. She lets out a sigh and smiles tightly at him. 

“Don’t go.”

“I don’t understand you. You work at this shithole company, basically ruin your life for them, but when you’re given a chance to leave, you insult the very person who’s trying to help you.”

“Are you trying to help me? I thought you were just--”

“There you go again.” Rey throws her hands up. “Do you think I’d do this for anyone?” 

“Well, no, maybe? I don’t know and I don’t know you. All I know is that you put yourself on display a lot. Or maybe that’s what you want people to see.” An uncomfortable look crosses Rey’s face and Ben steps closer to her, chasing the _real_ her. “Maybe if you control the way people see you, then no one will get closer to you, and that’s what you want. Or maybe people _don’t_ know that’s what you do and it’s the attention of strangers that you want.”

“It’s not,” she snaps. 

“But you’ve approached me, a stranger. That’s something.”

“You’re not a stranger.” 

Ben laughs. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re really not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Ben repeats again, pushing her against the window once again.

The window cleaner pauses with his movements when Rey’s back slams against the glass. The cleaner squints at them, eyes unable to see inside.

Ben sees Rey’s flushed cheeks and flips her around, forcing her to look at the cleaner. He pulls up her skirt again and this time, completely sinks his finger inside, right to the knuckle. She moans and squirms, his finger alone making the glass fog with her heaving breathing. Christ, it’s only his finger. 

“Do you want me to treat you like this?” He feels broken by what he’s doing and what he’s saying because Rey is clearly upset. “You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t have anyone. I grew up in a really shitty home and when people find out, all they do is give me that pity bullshit. Same with work. If people think I’m a cruel bitch at work, then good. If they find out I want to do do shit in public, then so be it. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted to hear?” Rey slams her hands on the glass and pushes back, both trying to get away from him and driving his finger deeper into her, if that’s possible. The window cleaner stutters in his movements.

“It’s not. And whatever shit you’ve been though, everyone else can fuck off.” He unzips himself, the zipper like a knife slicing the silence in the office. “Do you want this or not?” he asks again, unsure where they stand and not quite sure understanding what’s going on between them. 

“Yes!” Rey cranes her head to look at him. “I want _you_.” 

That’s all he needs to hear.

Ben pulls himself free and from her angle, Rey can’t see how his cock stands proudly for her, thick and heavy and hard _for her_. She tries to get a look but Ben breaches her entrance and makes her melt against the glass like butter.

She’s so tight and feels like velvet, responding to every touch he gives her. 

His hand pin hers above her head, forcing her back to arch and pop her backside against him. His other hand pulls her sweater from her skirt, his palm roaming across her smooth stomach and up to cup her small breast. It pebbles for him, and it makes him take her boob in a painful hold while he snaps into her.

Despite this, Rey takes it like a champ, keening for more. 

She grinds her forehead against the window so when Ben starts to pick up his pace--hips snapping into her at the right angle if her mouth hanging open is anything to go by--her head smacks into it repeatedly. Ben releases her wrists and wedges his hand between her head and the glass, cushioning her as he fucks into her warmth. She bumps into his hand with enthusiasm, her hair becoming tangled and frizzy at her hairline. She keeps her hands on the window, arms apart with her fingers splayed. Her knuckles tent as she tries to grip the glass--to hold onto something--as each thrust snaps the air from her lungs.

“Is this how you wanted it? To be fucked so thoroughly by me, in front of this cleaner?” He sinks his fingers into her flesh so hard that it might bruise. 

“Yessss,” she whines. “More, I want more. Harder,” she manages, clenching around him like the tease she is. “_So good_. What I always wanted.”

Still pounding into her with abandon, Ben relinquishes her breast and yanks her sweater high above her chest so her tits press against the glass for the cleaner to see. He won’t but Ben likes to think he can. His palm then snakes down, curling around her waist and momentarily relishing how small she is compared to him, before wriggling his fingers to the bundle of sensitive nerves that will unlock her screams.

And her screams are a beautiful melody to his ears.

He gently rubs her, fluctuating from slow circles to frantic strumming of her clit. 

“Ben! Ah--oh my god--I’m--Ahhhh--!” 

He pushes her against the glass again and pretends that the soap on the other side is dripping down her front, coating her tits and making them slippery. Her boobs even rub against the window and creates the squeaking noises to fuel his imagination. That combined with the sound of skin slapping skin drives him insane. 

He wants to take her legs and hold her up, but he knows they’ll crash to the floor if he tries to fuck her like a wheelbarrow. It’s tempting, the way she is, with her body and control completely surrendered to him. 

“I’m--Ben, please!” 

She feels _so fucking good_, that it makes the years of abstinence and watching his life spiral worth it. _She’s worth it._ She fits perfectly around him, clenching deliciously and milking his cock for everything he has. 

He presses his fingers down on her clit when he comes, thrusting a few more times as his cum lines her insides. She gasps and pounds her fist against the window, scaring the cleaner and making his dick twitch inside of her. He only has to rub her once more before she falls apart, her insides seizing around him. He pulls his hand out from under her head and wraps his arm around her midsection, hugging her tight and close.

Rey’s limbs become weak as she rides out her orgasm but it’s okay. Ben holds her upright, groaning at how the muscles of her arms and stomach feel against him. She’s strong and well-toned, if how she looked when she stepped into his office was anything to go by.

He stumbles back and leans against his desk, his spent cock growing heavy between his legs. Rey pulls away from the window and pulls down her top, followed by her skirt, much to his regret. 

There’s an outline of Rey on the window. There’s smudges where her hands were but Ben can definitely see where she was thoroughly fucked by him.

She tries to fix her hair but it’s barely an attempt. The step she takes towards him makes a squelching sound, which causes heat to rise to his face. He _did that_ and she’s not even going to clean herself of him. That makes something swell up inside his chest. 

Instead, she leans in for a kiss, which he accepts wholeheartedly. It’s slow and messy, their tongues sliding over each other. She tastes divine and wonders how _she_ tastes like. 

“Come home with me,” he breathes and he knows it’s a mistake when she freezes. “Or not?”

Rey lets out a nervous laugh and fishes something from her pocket. “What are your plans now?”

Ben shrugs, none of this was planned so he’s the last person to know. 

“My company would be interested, if you want. They’re practically ready to take you in.” Rey presses the thing from her pocket into his hand. It’s a piece of paper and his stomach starts to sink as he unravels it.

“What is this?” he whispers harshly. The paper is a crumpled up business card, with the words ‘Leia Organa’ embossed in gold. Under it is a list of companies owned by her, including Republic Finances. “Is this what my mother has been reduced to? To send _you_ to seduce me?” Ben looks at the camera. “In my own office where I’m constantly watched? So I have no choice but to quit?” He pushes her away and pulls up his pants angrily.

Rey doesn’t look bothered by his outburst. She just watches him calmly with her hands clasped. Always in control, even now.

“Did this mean anything to you?” Ben stares at her, not sure if it’s anger or despair that’s making his eyes tingle. 

She’s cold and betrays nothing on her face. “It’s whatever you make it to be, Ben.”

His lips are pursed into a thin line. This makes perfect sense now. No wonder she was interested in him. “Get the fuck out.”

She tilts her head down--_she fucking bows at him_\--and leaves. At the door, she stops and with a small voice that is uncharacteristic to how she was a moment ago, says, “Just remember what I told you, Ben.”

She watches from the corner of her eye as he takes his desktop and rips it from the socket before flinging it at the window. That scares the window cleaner, who starts thumps on the barrier and yells ‘Oi!’.

“Shut! The fuck! Up!!” Ben roars at him, ripping cables from the sockets, just because he can. 

Rey leaves at some point, Ben’s not sure when, but he expects nothing less. He ignores her final words--they mean nothing anyways--and proceeds to destroy his office. He’s as good as fired, so might as well let out the years of rage he’s locked away. 

He deserves that at least. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc....


	2. sexual slavery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Sexual Slavery, Deep Throating,  
AU: Canon-verse  
Summary: Rey and Kylo effectively change places after Kylo defects and Rey falls to the dark. Rey finds Kylo in the hands of the Hutts as a sex slave and liberates him, taking him for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinktober?? consistent updating?? never heard of it 😤 but for reals, work and irl has kinda been insane but i still have a lot of ideas and i'm kinda determined to get like...at least to the double digits (i burn out so quickly so making it to chapter 10 will be a m a z i ng gggg) 
> 
> adding dubious consent to the tags cos yeah.

The grinding sound of a rusty bolt sliding through the barrel reverberates against the walls of the tiny cell before swinging open. 

Kylo Ren, once a Knight of Ren, and once the Supreme Leader of the First Order, doesn’t move from his position on the floor, even when light falls over him and stings his closed eyelids. The only response from him is the flare of his nostrils.

There’s heavy footfalls that come to a stop at his cell doorway. No one says a word, not even the guard who’s usually keen to throw degrading obscenities at him. Unless he opens his eyes, Kylo is left in the dark as to who his guest is. 

He’s too tired to find out.

He just...doesn’t care anymore.

Then the person speaks and every neuron in his brain simultaneously freezes and fires at the same time. 

“Take your blaster and press it against your skull,” Rey says with a voice that is both strong and firm but at the same time, feels like honey down his spine. “Do you know who you have here?”

There’s a shaky intake of breath before a reply. “The Jedi Killer, ma’am,” says the guard with a strained voice. 

“Try again,” Rey says coldly.

“The Supreme Leader?” 

“_I’m_ the Supreme Leader! Do you understand _who he is_ to me?”

Silence. 

“What you have done to him is an act of war _to me_.”

“I-I didn’t know. We didn’t think he was of consequence.”

“No,” Rey says, the single syllable laced with condescension. “You don’t think so there’s no use for that brain of yours, is there?”

Nothing but the guard’s scared breathing reaches Kylo’s ears. 

Kylo _wants_ to get up, he _wants_ to grab onto the woman who has caused this situation and scream at her, whilst simultaneously wanting to push her away, unable to face her after all that’s happened. 

Something cold is pressed against his lips--a glass bottle filled with cool water that rushes into his mouth. 

It hurts to swallow. It feels like knives are being shoved down his throat and when he’s finally able to push the water past his mouth and swallow it, the knives become sharp icicles instead. He starts to cough and a gentle hand massages his throat, easing down the much needed water.

He weakly cracks an eye open and looks up at Rey, expecting to see her three buns and sandy coloured clothes. Instead, what greets him is a figure in black robes with their face hidden behind a black mask. Is this even Rey? He’s not sure anymore and his body is far too weak to stay awake to ponder.

As his mind drifts, he feels someone lift him up and cradle him gently in their arms. It’s probably Rey, using the Force to help lift him. Or maybe she’s brought someone--a stormtrooper perhaps--to carry him, but with the heavy metal collar around his neck where thin needles stab deep into his skin, his mind is a heavy and hazy mess.

He’s sure he only hearts one set of footsteps echo down the prison halls though. 

Just before he truly passes out, the sound of a blaster reaches his ears, followed closely by the heavy thump of a dead guard. 

-

A lot of things had happened in the lead up to Rey whisking him away. 

Being the Supreme Leader wasn't all that great when you knew everyone there was ready to take you out at the first opportunity. He’s lived knowing he was alone all his life, it’s not new to him to have nothing but the voices in his head as company, but with Snoke dead, it feels different. The emptiness and the silence is different. 

It was maddening.

So he finally snapped and left, desperate to see Rey again. He turned himself over to the Resistance, thinking that it would be her to take him in, but instead, Kylo was greeted by Poe’s fist to his face. 

It turns out he had been too late. 

In a cruel turn of events, Rey and Kylo had effectively swapped places. Rey had gone to Kylo and Kylo had gone to Rey, both missing each other by mere hours but while Kylo was safe with the Resistance, he knew the same couldn’t be said for Rey.

He had felt it, a heavy weight brought down upon him and the Force. 

Where he failed, Rey succeeded. She was more intune with the Dark side than he ever was. 

Things just went to shit afterwards. 

It was the best time to attack so retrospectively and from a strategic point of view, Kylo understood why she did it. Or at least, he assumed it was Rey who ordered the attack but you never know with the First Order, if they’re still called that. 

The Resistance had pretty much scattered after that. They were crippled to begin with so after the attack, they were forced to different parts of the galaxy with no plan and no hope to hold onto. 

Rey had been their hope and she was gone.

Kylo went in search of her, just like she had done for him many moons ago, but being the reckless son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, he was caught by bounty hunters almost immediately.

Not wanting to take any chances, a Force suppressing collar was instantly snapped around his neck before being turned over to whoever would pay credits for him. 

Some Hutt in the Outer Rim took him up as entertainment, figuring that beings from every corner of the galaxy would travel to see the once Supreme Leader reduced to nothing but a sex slave. They had planned to auction him off to the highest bidder when enough hype was made, but until then, spice was pumped into his malnourished body and left on display. Aliens of all shapes and sizes watched with fascination and hunger as he furiously jerked himself and fingered his ass, aching for release that would never be enough--not with the cocktail of spice in his system. 

Even after being liberated from that hellish prison, his body isn’t really his anymore. He still feels the effects of spice in his body, albeit weaker.

Kylo’s still flickering between consciousness and unconsciousness when there’s a dip in the mattress next to him and a cool hand is placed on his forehead. The bed he’s lying on is soft and luxurious, which matches the clothes and sheets wrapped around him. He feels cleaner than he has been in weeks, maybe even months--he’s not entirely sure how long he was with the Hutts. 

The hand starts to caress his head, nails gently raking at his hairline and combing through his hair. Kylo’s close to purring and snuggles into the pillows further, which makes him realise the collar is still around his neck.

“Why did you let them do that to you, Ben?” Rey asks softly, still carding her fingers through his hair.

“I could ask you the same thing, Rey,” Kylo replies with a similar tone. He opens his eyes and turns to face her, making his collar rub against his neck and needles strain at the movement. “How could you fall so easily?” 

Rey’s face hardens and she pulls her hand away. Kylo makes a noise at the back of his throat at the absence of her touch, but doesn’t try to chase her. He can see the anger simmering under the surface despite how calm and collected she forces herself to be.

“Maybe people should stop assuming they know me when clearly, they don't. That is one of the Resistance’s many mistakes only this time, it cost them everything. Assuming that I was the perfect Jedi ready to save the galaxy was their undoing. I’m just a scavenger from Jakku. I’m, as you so eloquently put it, nobody. I’m no one.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I were to become someone, it was going to be on my own terms. _Not theirs_.”

“Rey, what did they do to you?” Kylo doesn’t specify who he’s referring to because growing up how he did, _he understands_. For darkness to latch onto an insecurity and manifest the way it has in Rey…

“My life has never truly been in _my_ control. I stayed on Jakku because I believed my parents would come back. I stayed with the Resistance because I thought it was the right thing to do, but honestly, I have no personal reason to do so. And then---” Rey stops mid sentence and there’s such disgust morphing on her face that Kylo feels like it’s deja vu. He knows tis feeling. 

“How do people stand to be around others who force their expectations the way the Resistance did to me?” Rey finishes quietly. She stands from the bed and that’s when Kylo can properly take in her appearance.

She’s wearing black robes that end at her thighs with trousers tucked into heavy-looking boots. There’s a thick belt around her waist with a lightsaber hanging off it. It’s not any Kylo recognises but Rey unclips it, spinning it around her fingers like a true owner. She’s crafted it with her own hands, like how Kylo had done so with his own lightsaber. 

Rey presses the button and flicks her wrist with a snap. The handle unfolds and in her hands is a bright red double-ended lightsaber. Red rods are reflected back in her eyes as Rey remains standing, waiting for Kylo to say something. Rey is standing with her feet parted. It’s a solid stance, one that commands respect and power and Kylo’s not going to lie to himself--it suits her more than being with the Resistance ever could.

“So, what? From the snippets of gossip I hear, you’re conquering the galaxy fine on your own,” Kylo says. “Why am I here? What do you need me for?”

He watches as Rey turn off her lightsaber and places it on the bedside table, before kneeling on the bed and swinging her leg over him so she straddles his waist. She cages him with her body, with an arm on either side of his head, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted to join you, you know that? It broke my heart leaving you battered and bruised on the _Supremacy_ floor with Snoke’s dead body just metres away. I wanted to take you away, even back then, but the galaxy is too selfish for that. I never got what I wanted.” As she speaks, Kylo feels her ass press against his groin. “Everyone always left me. The people who mattered always left me.” Rey twirls his hair around her finger as her lips ghost over the shell of his ear. He shivers and his cock stirs, the residual spice rushing to his brain. “But you’ll never leave me, will you?”

“Do I have a choice?” Kylo says with difficulty. He’s sweating now. He can’t move, his arms are useless by his side despite how much he yearns to touch her. He wants to grab and flip her over and press himself against her small frame so, so badly. 

Rey continues to grind on him, swirling her hips and rocking from side to side so that her cunt drags over his cock ever time. “No, I suppose not,” she says sadly. Her hand slides down his neck, her fingernail trailing down his skin until it hits his collar. “I can’t have you running away from me.”

“I...wouldn’t,” he pants, the pressure in his pants becoming too much. He’s able to buck his hips, a choked cry escaping his lips when he sees Rey bite her lips.

“I don’t know that. I can’t trust you, Ben. No one knows you’re here, so no one is coming to rescue you. Finally, I can have you all to myself. Would you like that?” 

He can’t get a proper answer out for the way she speaks, voice low and husky, makes him come straight away. 

Gasping for air, Kylo is embarrassed how quickly he’s come but that’s barely a problem in his mind when Rey shimmies down his body and hooks her fingers on his waistband and pulls his pants down in one movement. His crotch is sticky with his spent, little spurts still leaking from his tip. Rey grasps his length with a firm hold and smiles when she feels him pulsate in her palm. She slowly slides her hand up and down, milking every bit of cum from him before engulfing his cock with her eager mouth.

Her tongue slides around his cock, licking and savoring the bitter taste, before shoving his cock further down her throat. 

Rey...Rey feels amazing. She takes him in effortlessly and her throat is the perfect sheath for his cock. The muscles of her throat contract and undulate along his length, he wants to roughly fuck up into her but his body remains to be under some spell. She still has her hand at the base of his shaft, her wrist working his cock so combined with her warm mouth, it’s not long before Kylo comes again with a shout. 

He comes hard and fast and she swallows it without a second thought. Her moans are muffled and he wants to grab onto her hair--to either yank her head back or to force her to take more of his cock. She doesn’t need any guidance though, she’s sucking his cock like she was born to, expertly licking and shoving his cock deep in throat until it feels like his soul will leave him. 

She releases him with a pop and immediately goes to clean him up with her tongue. She licks up the sticky fluid that’s smeared across his belly, delving her tongue into his navel to lap up the pool of cum that’s collected there. He squirms at the odd sensation, toes curling when she rubs her tongue deeper against him. 

Rey gets up and sits back on her knees. Licking her lips, she acts like she’s just had a five course meal. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and grins at Kylo. He can only imagine how he looks, cheeks flushed with his softening cock twitching weakly between his legs.

Kylo’s eyes flick from her face to the apex of her thighs. “You--”

“Mmmm, no. I have somewhere to be. I just wanted a snack before getting back to my meetings, but don’t worry. I’ll be back in no time,” she purrs. Rey flicks her hair over her shoulder and leans over to reach for her lightsaber, purposely dragging her hand over the length of his body. 

“So, I’ve just changed owners. I’m not a sex slave for a the Hutts, but for you instead.” Kylo’s voice is hard with bitterness because as long as the collar remains around his neck, he knows that’s all he is. 

Rey doesn’t say anything as she gets off the bed and fixes her appearance. There’s a white smear on her shoulder that Kylo eyes zero in on. Following his line of sight, Rey glances at a nearby mirror and doesn’t make any movement to hide it or clean herself. 

When he’s finally left alone, control over his body is returned to him. His hands go to his collar, feeling for the needles that still remain. There isn’t any more spice being pumped into his body, but the Force is still suppressed for him.

He’s still at Rey’s mercy and even though he’s her prisoner, his heart races thinking about what’s to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc...


End file.
